


Wishes

by melxncholly



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melxncholly/pseuds/melxncholly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke left for Skyhold one night and never came back. Her son is older now, and he wishes he could remember.</p><p>Spoilers for "Here Lies the Abyss"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> In my playthrough I left a Hawke who romanced Anders in the fade, a Hawke who also had two little boys at home. I just wanted to write something for the oldest, Malcom, who is like the exact copy of Marian. They're just very similar and I wanted to see how that would affect Anders and how Malcom would feel aaah...

They have the same hair and eyes, eyes that sparkled like the ocean blue and hair dark as a raven’s feathers. Or at least that’s what his father says.

Malcolm wishes he could remember what she looked like.

But Malcolm Hawke did not remember his mother, only snippets, old memories that faded by each passing day. He remembered old lullabies and Ferelden folksongs sung by the fireside. He remembered lightning crackling at her finger tips, fire dancing along her palms and his father’s voice happy as he sat beside her. He never sounded that happy anymore.

Malcolm wishes father would sound happy like that again.

His father always speaks of her though. Of her courage and beauty and wit, and how much Malcolm reminded him of her.

“You’re her son alright.” He says, with pride in his eyes and his voice.

And Malcolm is her son, he couldn’t be any other woman’s son of course. He holds herself how she did, with pride and a bit of gusto, and he walks with a purpose. He has her laugh, loud and obnoxious (or so he’s told) and filled with life. He has her sharp tongue and wit, always ready to quip back with a joke or retort. Most of all he has her determination. Always determined to help others, his friends and his family and especially his brother, or so he’s told.

He wishes she could be there to see him, see how he’s grown to be her son.

Malcolm knows it hurts his father whenever he looks his way however. He doesn’t speak of it though, as if he’s sparing him from some painful secret. Malcolm knows though, he’s always known and he hates it.

He wishes he didn’t.

He has a lot of wishes.

He wishes that his father didn’t have to look at him and see his mother, the woman that they lost.

Malcolm wishes that he didn’t hear the quiet gasp whenever his father looks at him, that he didn’t have to hear the _disappointment_ that it isn’t her.

Malcolm wishes that just for once he didn’t have to hear of his mother through old stories from even older men who wish and hope for their Champion.

Malcolm wishes that he could have his mother back.

He wishes that they could be a family and live together.

But he can’t.

Because if wishes were real, she’d be home with them.


End file.
